


i been looking at the stars tonight (and i think, oh how i miss that bright sun)

by rizcriz



Series: tumblr is dying time to get compiling [24]
Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-11
Updated: 2018-12-11
Packaged: 2019-09-16 12:49:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16954347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rizcriz/pseuds/rizcriz
Summary: Post 3x04; Quentin and Eliot acknowledge they missed each other.





	i been looking at the stars tonight (and i think, oh how i miss that bright sun)

Eliots daughter gets up and follows Fen and Alice to a room upstairs, leaving Quentin alone with Eliot.

“Penny’s not dead,” Quentin murmurs, “That’s crazy.”

Eliot nods, humming thoughtfully as he looks down at his lap and tips his cup of melting ice towards himself. “I miss my cup automatically refilling itself.”

Quentin turns his head to look at him, planning a retort. But the words die on his tongue at the sight of Eliot casually sitting on the couch in the living room. Like they haven’t been separated for the past few months. It’s almost like nothings even changed. He’s got his old clothes on, his hair’s all fixed, and he’s got his signature tumbler in hand.

It doesn’t help that the sun is setting outside and it somehow shines just enough so that it almost makes this man, who is so resolutely not an angel, look as if he is.

And Quentin’s emotional, okay?

You can’t blame him for the sniffle that shuffles out of him, or the tears that well up in his eyes. It’s been a fucking rollercoaster of a day.

And Eliot’s back. Sitting in his usual place on the couch, just like Quentin’s dreamt up a million different times in a thousand different ways. So fucking sue him for letting himself feel something other than despair for once.

His sniffling catches Eliot’s attention; he looks up, brow furrowed. “Q?” Quentin shakes his head, hiding his tears behind his hair and looking away. “Are you crying?”

“…no…”

He expects Eliot to laugh at him, but instead he hears a soft shuffling, and then large, warm hands are on his knees and Eliot’s kneeling in front of him. “Q—“

Another sniffle, “I’m just happy you’re not dead.”

“Q…”

A shrug, “And that you’re here.”

“I—“

Quentin shakes his head and leans forward before Eliot can say anything else and wraps his arms around him again, folding around him like Eliot’s body was built just for Quentin to hug him. Eliot doesn’t even hesitate. His arms come up to wind around Quentin’s waist, and hold on just as tightly.

Neither of them speak for a few long moments. Eliot adjusts so he’s sitting on his knees and gets a better hold on Quentin. Quentin pretends he’s not getting snot and tears all over Eliot’s once favorite vest.

Eliot presses a kiss to the top of Quentin’s head, “I missed you too, Q,” he whispers.

Quentin closes his eyes.

He doesn’t think he’ll be able to say goodbye again. He squeezes his arms tighter around Eliot, and all that remains unsaid settles in the air around them.

He starts to pull away, but Eliot holds tight. “El—“

“I need this too, Q.”

And if he sounds about as choked up as Quentin feels, well that’s just for them to know.


End file.
